


Of Ice Cream and Summer Days

by badskippy



Series: Bagginshield One-Offs [15]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bagginshield Summer Surprise Event, Bullying, First Love, M/M, Poor Thorin, Pre-teens - Freeform, Protectiveness, True Love, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 13:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11990862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badskippy/pseuds/badskippy
Summary: Thorin and Bilbo are best friends.  The very best.  But there is someone that doesn't like them ... and one summer day, one altercation will lead them down a path that comes with many many surprises.





	Of Ice Cream and Summer Days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aquileaofthelonelymountain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/gifts), [nerdeeart](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nerdeeart), [beetle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/gifts), [Neeka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neeka/gifts).



* * *

 

 

_**Bolton Priory and The Priory Church of St Mary & St Cuthbert near Skipton, North Yorkshire, England** _

 

 

_“You’ve never eaten ice cream before?!”_

_Thorin felt the heat of his embarrassment flush his cheeks. “It’s not a crime!”_

 

            It was their thing. Not long after they first met, just the year before in fact when Thorin’s family moved to Skipton, Thorin started going on walkabouts.        

            With Bilbo.    

            Bilbo had always loved trekking through the fields and over the hills and exploring the forest around the town. His favorite scenic walks, however, were those near the ruins of Bolton Priory. So naturally, Bilbo wanted his new best friend to go with him! It would be fun, Bilbo had insisted. Thorin wasn’t sure about ‘fun’ at first, but he quickly agreed to go; he had zero inclination in telling Bilbo no. And it was one of their first trips out that Bilbo brought Thorin to a particular copse of trees near the water's edge, on the gently sloping bank of the River Wharfe and right across from The Priory Ruins. It had been ‘Bilbo’s spot’ he’d said. Now, it could be ‘their spot’, if Thorin liked.

            Thorin did like. Very much. And he’d been more than touched. But he kept that last part to himself.

            Whenever either of them wanted to get away, they only had to call the other up and tell them to meet at ‘their spot’ for the other to set out. Today had been no different. It was a lovely August Saturday and Thorin had been home, dawdling around the house, his brother and sister out with their mother, when Bilbo had called, asking if Thorin wanted to meet after chores were done; Thorin never got his chores done so quickly! Bilbo brought a little picnic of sorts that his mother had put together for them; ham and Swiss sandwiches, cucumber salad, a couple of bottles of pop and a few slices of Belladonna’s homemade pound cake. It was over dessert that Bilbo had made the off-handed comment that his mother would often serve the pound cake toasted with ice cream and butterscotch syrup that the whole misunderstanding had started.

            “You’ve never eaten ice cream before?!”

            Thorin felt the heat of his embarrassment flush his cheeks. “It’s not a crime!”

            Bilbo’s eyes widened. “I ... I ... I didn’t mean it was bad or anything! I swear!”

            Thorin knew Bilbo meant no insult. But it still stung. “I’m sure lots of people have never had it!”

            “I’m sure!” Bilbo hurried to agree. “I was just ...”

            “Mum says it’s a luxury!” Thorin stated. _And those are things beyond us_ went without his saying.

            “I was surprised,” Bilbo insisted, “That’s all!”

            Thorin sighed. “I mean ... if I ever had it ...” Thorin deflated. “I don’t remember.” He couldn’t look at Bilbo. He feared Bilbo pitied him and that was the very last thing he wanted from Bilbo. Bilbo was his friend, his best-friend, and in fact, he kind of ... well, he was very very fond of Bilbo. And Bilbo never judged or treated Thorin differently for being – well, _less fortunate_. But to have Bilbo’s pity; it made Thorin sick to his stomach.

            Why couldn’t he and Bilbo just run around and play monsters and heroes, or explore for lost treasure, or go on an adventure or, _or anything_ other than worry whether there would be enough food for dinner!   Or if the electricity would stay on until Mum was able to pay the past due bill.  Or fear that any day, Mum would come home and say they had to move again, that they had to leave, that Thorin would have to leave Bilbo behind and live life without any hope?

            Why couldn’t they just be normal twelve-year-old boys?!

            _Bilbo is a normal twelve-year-old_ , Thorin’s inner voice reminded him bitterly. 

            Bilbo lived in a big house and had nice clothes and ate good food and had a Mum who could stay home and who didn’t have to work two full time but menial jobs, just to keep a roof over their heads, and leaving Thorin to be ‘grown up’ and look after his younger siblings.

            Sometimes he blamed his dad for going missing, for not being there, for everything. But then Thorin would feel guilty and go back to trying to lighten his mother’s load.

            Still, it was Thorin who was the odd one out at school.

            Made him a source of ridicule and the brunt of jokes.

            Made Thorin the loser of their class.

            Made him a total tosser; someone that had nothing to give, nothing to offer, nothing at all that made him worthy of someone like Bilbo Baggins.

            Thorin _hated_ being poor.

            “I’m sorry,” Bilbo said softly.

            Now Thorin really felt guilty. “No ... I am.” Thorin was angry at his life when it came to it. It wasn’t his Mum’s fault, or even his Dad’s. And it certainly wasn’t Bilbo’s fault. It just was. “I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m ... I’m sorry, Bilbo.”

            “It’s okay.”

            Thorin shook his head. “No, it’s not. Mum’s always telling me that losing my temper isn’t a good thing and probably why I’m ...” he wanted to say _hated_ , but for some reason, Bilbo got angry whenever Thorin said it, “... not very popular.”

            “I don’t think that’s entirely true.”

            Thorin shrugged; he thought it was true. He had no friends. Well, no, he had Bilbo. But then, Bilbo was more than a friend. At least, he was to Thorin.

            “I like you,” Bilbo said softly.

            Now Thorin blushed for a totally different reason; he liked Bilbo too. He liked Bilbo a lot.

            “I think others are just ... _intimidated_ by you.”

            “Of _me_?” Thorin couldn’t understand that. Thorin didn’t think that quite right. He wasn’t special. True he was a tad broader, but he was also a bit shorter than everyone else in their grade (except for Bilbo; who was even shorter than Thorin). And being poor on top of it didn’t help. _Another reason people dislike me,_ Thorin thought _. Ill-tempered and poor._ But now Bilbo says Thorin intimidates them? “How do you work that out?” Thorin asked, confused.

            Bilbo turned his bright eyes and beautiful smile to Thorin, clearly seizing the chance to talk about his friend. “You make that face,” Bilbo did an exaggerated expression of Thorin’s well known, but often denied scowl. “And they just back off! It’s very impressive!” Bilbo giggled.

            Thorin rolled his eyes but he was pleased that Bilbo thought him ‘impressive.’ And frankly, other’s backing off is how it should be!   When he and Bilbo first met, other kids would tease Bilbo for being little and Thorin wasn’t having any of that shit! Oh no! As far as he was concerned, Bilbo was smart and funny and lovely and charming and just – everything! Thorin made sure the others knew that they could take their opinions of Bilbo and go pound sand! Or he’d pound their faces _into_ said sand!

            Okay, maybe Thorin _could_ understand how other’s thought him intimidating.

            “Plus,” Bilbo said, shifting himself so that he now sat cross-legged, looking at Thorin with a growing smile. “You’re big and strong and _way_ more ... muscley, than the other guys in our class!”   

            Now, Thorin had a hard time denying that. He was wider, thicker, and more built – _‘husky’_ , his Mum always said – than most of the boys in their class. Well, all the boys really, when it came down to it. They may have been taller, but Thorin’s compact strength made up for the difference.

            But Thorin had never been very comfortable hearing compliments about himself – of course, not that he didn’t like it when Bilbo said them. Still, Thorin blushed and stuttered, “I ... I don’t think ... I’m all that.”

            “You can say that again!”

            Thorin and Bilbo whirled around and set eyes on the last person either wanted to see; Lotho Sackville-Baggins.

            Now, Thorin didn’t hate anyone as a rule. Okay, he _said_ he hated Thranduil Ofopheron, but that was because Thranduil was always trying to one-up everyone and paraded around like a puffed-up peacock, and that made Thranduil a slick git in Thorin’s opinion! And Thorin _said_ he hated Bard Bowman, but only because Bard was always smiling and trying to catch Bilbo’s eye and make Bilbo laugh – at least Thorin thought so – and that made Thorin’s blood boil! Thorin didn’t really ‘hate’ them.

            But Thranduil and Bard paled in comparison to Bilbo’s fourteen-year-old cousin Lotho. He was always made snide, nasty comments to Bilbo, and Thorin, on several occasions, nearly came to blows with the ‘ _dosey dung-faced dog_!’ Yet, regardless of how much Thorin grew angry over these remarks, Bilbo had asked Thorin to promise not to do anything, and just let Bilbo handle it, which Bilbo did. Beautiful Thorin had to admit. Yet, Thorin silently promised _himself_ that if Lotho ever laid a single finger on Bilbo, all promises were off!   Lotho Sackville-Baggins truly was the one person in the entire world that Thorin one hundred percent, for sure, without a doubt – and always would – _absolutely hated_!

            “No one asked for your opinion, Lotho!” Bilbo snapped, jumping to his feet, ready for a fight.

            Lotho was not impressed and just laughed. “I was just agreeing with your ... _boyfriend_.”

            Thorin had gotten to his feet and balled his hands into fists. “Shove off, Lotho! You’re not welcome here!”

            Lotho tsked, still not afraid and leaning up against a tree. “Not very hospitable. Is he boys?” Lotho snickered at his own joke and his friends laughed. “Maybe we should teach him some manners!”

            Thorin and Bilbo finally saw that Lotho was not alone as two other teens stepped out from behind a couple of nearby trees. Lotho had brought his two minions with him, his cousin Fowler Bracegirdle and Fowlers’ best friend, Tupper Spragg. Thorin and Bilbo thought the three goons very much like Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle from the Harry Potter movies, just without the looks, charm, humor or magical abilities. Okay, so maybe they weren’t _so much_ like the characters, but they were idiots.

            Now, Thorin had never worried about Fowler or Tupper. The two boys may have been older and a little taller than him, but Thorin was sure he could take them both. And Lotho had never scared him; Lotho may have been bigger and older, but he was sluggish. But Thorin wasn’t so sure he could take all three teens at once.

            Sadly, Bilbo didn’t seem scared at all.

            “You leave Thorin alone, or else!”

            That made Fowler and Tupper laugh again, and Lotho leered, “Or else what?”

            Thorin tried to pull Bilbo back, but Bilbo wiggled to freedom. “Or you’ll be sorry!”

            Now all three teens laughed.

            “Don’t, Bilbo,” Thorin whispered loudly, trying again to pull Bilbo back and behind him.

            “Yeah, _Dilbo_ ,” Lotho barked out. “You better listen to your _boyfriend_!”

            “Sod off, Lotho!” Thorin said, puffing up a bit and trying to feel as strong and confident as he hoped he looked. “And we’re not boyfriends!”

            “Oh, I’m sure!” Lotho said sardonically. “Not even _Dilbo Baggins_ would be so low as to fuck a filthy beggar like you!”

            Thorin had to hand it to Bilbo, he was fast! Before Thorin could even blink, Bilbo shot forward and with a swift kick, brought Lotho down with a howl onto one knee. However, quick reactions must have been a family trait, because before Bilbo could back out of the way, Lotho’s left arm shot out and he backhanded Bilbo right across the face, sending his cousin wheeling around to fall face down, flat on the ground.

            Thorin didn’t really see much after that because he had Lotho in his sight and all he saw was red.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            “Would you like to explain what happened?!”

            _No, I don’t think so,_ Thorin thought, deciding to ignore his mother’s question. He’d hoped that if he could get home and cleaned up before she got home, there would be plenty of time for him to make so that she didn’t notice. Okay, so maybe he was deluding himself about that because sadly, it didn’t quite turn out as he hoped. No sooner had she walked in the front door, she gasped when she greeted him; bruised knuckles, busted lip, cut eyebrow, quickly darkening black eye and a swollen jaw. She almost immediately sat him in a kitchen chair and began, angrily, cleaning him up properly.

            “Did you hear me, young man?” Freya Durin demanded. “I want an explanation!”

            Thorin only tightened his lips and refused to answer. It hurt to even scowl but scowl he did, and pointedly did _not_ look his mother in the face. Instead, he glanced at his little eight-year-old sister, Dis, who stood next to Thorin looking at him with worry. He gave her a wink, in hopes that it would show her he was fine, and she gave him a tiny smile in return. But Dis’ smile faded when their mother applied a cotton ball, wet with iodine, to Thorin’s lip and he winced in pain.

            “He got his arse kicked!” Thorin’s ten-year-old brother said with a singsong lilt to his voice.

            “Sod off!” Thorin growled.

            “Thorin!” Freya hissed.

            Frerin gave Thorin a smug smirk, and Thorin answered it with a rude hand gesture.

            “That’s enough!” Freya said, shaking her head with a huffed sigh. “And you _will_ tell me what happened! _Now_!”

            Thorin hissed when his mother pressed another iodine soaked cotton ball to his cut eyebrow. “I ... I fell down.”

            Frerin laughed, jeering, “Bet he was fighting over his _boyfriend_!”

            “I said SOD OFF, _Ferret Face_!”         

            Thorin felt hot with his anger, but an insidious coldness was seeping through him; he’d never told his mother about his feelings for Bilbo. Hell, he’d never told his mother about Bilbo himself!     

            Freya had stopped her ministrations, she stood silent and stone faced, her expression completely unreadable, as she stared at Thorin. He had to look away because he was starting to feel uncomfortable and small. Soon, the silence weighed heavily in the small room, constricting all the air and Thorin was starting to find it hard to breathe.

            Thorin felt he was going to throw up.

            Finally, when time had stretched on for what seemed like an eternity, Freya took a breath in and said softly, “Frerin ... take your sister and go upstairs.”

            “ _What_?!” Frerin shouted, incredulous.

            “But, Mummy!” Dis insisted. “I have to make sure Thorin’s okay!”

            Thorin felt his cheeks warm with his sister’s concern. “I’m okay,” Thorin said gently, turning to touch his forehead to Dis’. “Go upstairs like Mum said.”

            Dis turned a glare to their mother in her displeasure; which for some odd reason seemed to amuse Freya. But Dis huffed out a sigh and moved to follow their mother’s order. Freya turned to get clean water, while Frerin started out of the room, when –

            “OWW!” Frerin howled, hopping on one foot and holding the opposite shin with both hands.

            Freya spun around and looked at each of her children quickly before looking at Frerin.

            “She kicked me!” Frerin said, pointing at Dis.

            “You deserved it!” Dis said, giving Frerin a heated look. “You shouldn’t be sticking your tongue out at Thorin behind Mummy’s back!” Dis spun around, nose in the air, flipped her hair over her shoulder and marched towards the stairs.

            Frerin gave his mother a wide-eyed look, waiting for her to do something.

            “You heard your sister,” Freya said with shrug. “You shouldn’t stick your tongue out at your brother. Now go.”

            Frerin grumbled but did as he was told.

            Freya placed a bowl of clean water on the table and, instead of standing she pulled another chair over so that she could now sit in front of Thorin. She dipped a fresh washcloth in the water and gently started cleaning up the rest of Thorin’s face.

            They sat there, once more in silence. Thorin still could not look at his mother but he could feel her eyes on him. He tried to school his expression into nothingness but he was even breathing as forced and his mouth tasted funny, stale. He wanted to get away and hide, just go, but there was no escape really and he knew it.

            “So,” Freya said, making soft passes with the cloth around Thorin’s wounds. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

            He didn’t answer his mother.

            “Aren’t you going to tell me?”

            _Nope. Not at all._ Thorin remained silent.

            Freya gently cleaned Thorin’s face, patted them dry with a dry clean cloth and then reached for a butterfly-bandage, pulling the sides of Thorin’s eyebrow cut together. She was finished now and she sat back in her chair. “Thorin?”

            He didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

            Freya tenderly lifted her son’s chin so that he had no choice but to look at her. “Won’t you at least tell me his name?”

            Part of Thorin wanted to shout it out, but part of him still wanted to run and hide. The soft, tender smile his mother wore was too much and he whispered, “Bilbo.”

            Freya’s smile grew. “Bilbo. That’s rather sweet. Is he as sweet as his name?”

            “He’s ... he’s, uhm ...” _marvelous, wonderful, amazing, smart, funny, awesome, charming, brave, interesting, fabulous, beautiful, lovely, endearing, talented_ , “... he’s perfect.”

            Freya laughed. “Perfect is he? Well, no wonder he’s your boyfriend.”

            “But we’re not!” Thorin said, trying hard to keep his disappointment out of his voice but failed. “We’re just ... just ... friends.”  

            Thorin hated that word.

            He’d denounced Lotho’s quip that he and Bilbo were boyfriends. And technically, that was true; nothing had ever been said, by either of them. In fact, neither Bilbo nor Thorin had ever even mentioned that they liked other _boys_ in that way, let alone each other. Thorin did of course, which was why voicing the denial, loudly and adamantly, felt like such a betrayal to Thorin’s heart, such a lie.   

            Thorin felt sick again. “I mean ... I ...”

            By some magical power, Thorin did not understand, his mother knew what Thorin was feeling without Thorin saying; it was strange how she always seemed to know. She pulled Thorin into a warm embrace, softly saying, “You mean you’d _like him_ to be your boyfriend. Wouldn’t you?”

            “Bilbo will never want that!” Thorin refused to cry. He wouldn’t! But he sniffed and his mother held him a little tighter. “Not now.”

            “Oh, sweetheart,” Freya asked gently. “Why would you say that?”

            “I failed him!”

            “Failed him?!” Freya pulled back, looking at Thorin incredulously. “I don’t believe that! Why do you think you failed him?!”

            Thorin nodded emphatically, sniffing again. “I failed to protect him and he got hurt!”

            Freya huffed out her disbelief. “You are the one sitting here battered and bruised, so again, I don’t believe that.”

            “It was all Lotho’s fault!” Thorin spat out. “If he hadn’t—”

            “Wait ... who’s Lotho?”

            “Bilbo’s stupid cousin! He’s always—”

            “He was with you and Bilbo?”

            “No way! We’d never invite him to—”

            “Then why was he along?”

            “He wasn’t! He just showed up and started in on Bilbo like he always does and—”

            “Does he pick on Bilbo a great deal?”

            Thorin nodded. “All the time! And it really pisses me—”

            “Even at school?”

            Thorin nodded again.

            “Why doesn’t your teacher stop him?!”

            “Lotho isn’t _in_ our class! He’s in Mister White’s! But none of the teachers catch him—”

            “ _Mister White_?! Doesn’t he teach the older boys, though?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Wait ... how _old_ is this Lotho?”

            “Fourteen.”

            “ _Fourteen_?! Are you telling me an older boy did this to you?!”

            “Well ... no.”

            Freya was clearly confused. “He didn’t?”

            Thorin shook his head. “He had Fowler and Tupper with him.”

            “WHAT?! You’re telling me you were attacked by _three_ fourteen-year-olds?!”

            Thorin rolled his eyes. “No, of course not!”

            Freya was confused again.

            Thorin quickly explained. “Tupper failed a year, he’s fifteen.”

            “OH MY GOD!”

            But Thorin didn’t understand. “What’s the problem? I’m wasn’t afraid of them or anything!”

            “That isn’t the point, Thorin!”

            Thorin didn’t get her point. “It’s not a big deal! They’re dumb-arses!”

            “You could have been hurt!” Freya was beside herself. “You _were_ hurt!”

            Thorin shrugged.

            “Did it never occur to you ... you or Bilbo ... to just ... run away?!”

            “NO WAY!” Thorin was horrified at the very thought. “ _Lotho hit Bilbo_! I had to defend him!”

            Freya face-palmed, muttering, “So like your father.”

            Thorin didn’t understand his mother at all. “I was doing fine! Really! I could have taken them easily, but Lotho was not fighting fair!”

            “Bullies don’t fight fair,” Freya stated. “That’s why they’re bullies!”

            “Lotho has no honor!”

            Freya just shook her head.

            “Any,” Thorin continued. “Lotho finally got me down and I was having a bit of trouble getting the upper hand again—”

            “You don’t say.”

            “—but then,” Thorin said excitedly, “Bilbo came out of nowhere and jumped on Lotho’s back and started beating Lotho about the head!” Thorin looked very proud. “He was super awesome!”

            Freya took a deep breath and looked to the heavens, murmuring, “Lord, give me strength.” She took a few calm breaths and said gently, “I’m sure Bilbo was very brave ...”

            “He was!” Thorin insisted. “But ...” He looked down at his feet and was clearly not happy.

            Freya didn’t like that. “But, what?”

            Thorin did answer and his scowl returned.

            “Thorin, what happened?”

            Thorin sighed. “I failed him.”

            Freya shook her head again. “So we’ve come full circle.” She cleared her throat and asked firmly, “In what way ... exactly ... did you fail him?”

            “I failed to protect him.”

            “Thorin ... you are trying my patience.”

            “He got hurt!”

            “ _In. What. Way_?!”

            Thorin sighed once more, then looked back at his mother. “Lotho couldn’t get Bilbo off him ... he was trying to grab anything he could reach but Bilbo was too clever, too quick, too amazing for that stupid, moronic, troll-headed—”

            “Fewer adjectives, more specifics.”

            “Lotho couldn’t throw him off and the other two idiots only stood there ... watching Lotho spin around with Bilbo pounding him about the ears ... I ... I tried to get up ... I thought ... I thought I could finish Lotho, but ...” Thorin looked away again, miserable.

            When Thorin didn’t go on, Freya urged him. “But ...”

            Thorin took a few breaths and said, “But before I could get up on my feet, Lotho spun them around and slammed Bilbo into a tree, and then Bilbo just fell to the ground and didn’t move.”       

            Freya gasped.

            “Fowler said Lotho killed him and then the three of them just took off scared.”

            “Oh, my ... God.”

            “I was scared too, but ... when I went over to him, Bilbo did move.”

            Freya released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

            “He had trouble taking breaths at first—”

            Freya was a little relieved. “He got the wind knocked out of him.”

            Thorin nodded. “That’s what he said. He said he was okay but I know he was hurting.”

            “I’m sure.”

            “That’s when I offered to walk him home.”

            “And ... did you?”

            Thorin shook his head. “He said that I didn’t need to.”

            Freya was a little put off by that. “You should have insisted ... at the very least.”

            “I did!” Thorin was clearly miserable. “But he said no and now ... now he probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

            “Oh, Thorin.”

            “Because I failed him.”

            Thorin felt sick again and he for all he told himself that he wouldn’t cry his eyes were bent on betraying him. Freya wrapped him up again and held him tight.

            “I’m sure Bilbo doesn’t think that at all.”

            “How could he not?”

            “Because if he’s as good a friend as you say, he may be feeling just as bad that you got hurt.”

            “But I’m fine.”

            Freya shook her head. “That won’t keep him from feeling badly anyway, Thorin.” She pulled back and wiped his eyes. “You call him later and you’ll see.”

            “Can I go over and see him?”

            Freya smiled at that. “Of course.”

            Thorin felt a little better.

            Thorin and Freya turned to the front door as a loud, booming knock – almost a pounding – echoed through the house.

            “Three guesses what that’s about,” Freya said dryly before turning to Thorin. “You stay here.”

            Thorin watched as his mother stood, squared her shoulders and rolled her neck. Taking in a quick calming breath, Freya calmly walked towards the front door and opened it.

            “Yes?” Freya said.

            To anyone else, Freya sounded collected. But Thorin knew his mother well and he could hear the smooth, steely tone in her voice; it was the same tone when she told Thorin she was not happy.

            “Are you Missus Durin?!” Demanded the unseen woman on the outside.

            “Yes I am,” Freya replied, her steely tone turning just a bit harder. “Who are you?”

            “My name is Missus Sackville-Baggins—”

            Thorin was up like a shot and heading for the door.

            “—and I demand to talk to you about your delinquent of a son!”

            Thorin stood behind his mother and stared at the very unpleasant looking woman standing on their front porch. Except for the eye-watering loud dress and pimple-free face, there was no missing that she was the mother of Lotho Sackville-Baggins; mousey-brown colored hair, beady eyes, pale almost sallow complexion, thin lips, and wearing a rather pinched expression. Totally Lotho.

            “Oh, really?” Freya said, sarcastically surprised. “How about we talk about _your son_ , who bullies younger children!”     

            Missus Sackville-Baggins was offended. “ _Bullied_?! It was _your son_ that attacked my poor boy!”

            “Poor boy, my foot!” Freya parried. “Your son is older, bigger and has _no business_ going after younger boys like Thorin and Bilbo!”

            “That’s a monstrous slur!” Lobelia spat out.

            “He picks on Bilbo all the time!” Thorin stated.

            “No, I don’t!” Lotho countered.

            “Lotho would never do that!” Lobelia shrieked. “He _adores_ his little cousin!”

            “That’s a lie!” Thorin roared.

            “How _dare you_ call me a liar!” Lobelia spat out.

            “Look!” Freya said, jumping back in. “The bottom-line is that your son and his ... _friends_ bullied and attacked two younger boys for no reason but for their own sick amusement!”

            “My son was minding his own business when your ... beastly offspring attacked him!”

            “That’s not what happened!”  Freya stated firmly.

            But Lobelia waved her off.  “You know _nothing_ about what happened!”

            “I know as much as you do!”

            “I know the truth!”

            “And I don’t?!”

            “Not from the lies your son has _clearly_ told you!”

            Freya bristled at the accusation. “Thorin has no reason to lie!”

            “Oh really?” Lobelia released a hollow laugh. “I’m sure he’s a perfect angel!”

            “I never said he was an angel,” Freya admitted, “but neither is he the deceitful liar here either!”

            Lobelia bridled at Freya’s words. “Are you impeaching my son’s character?!”

            “If the shoe fits!”

            Thorin agreed. “He’s fucking piece of shite!”

            Lobelia wrinkled her nose at that. “What disgraceful language! A sure sign of an inferior upbringing!”   

            Freya was not happy. “Excuse me?! Just what the hell do you mean, ‘ _inferior upbringing_?!’”

            Lobelia turned smug. “Well, look at your own language ... clearly, his behavior is a reflection of his home environment and parents!”

            Before Freya could retort to Lobelia’s insult, another voice shouted out, “WELL YOU’D KNOW BEST ABOUT PISS-POOR PARENTING!”

            They all turned and looked at a newcomer that was marching up the lawn. The lady very pretty with lovely honey colored hair, creamy skin and dressed in a beautiful floral dress that seemed at odds with the flush of anger on the woman’s face.   For a moment Thorin thought she looked familiar before it hit him; SHE LOOKED LIKE BILBO! And then he knew, it had to be Bilbo’s momma!

            “Stay out of this, Belladonna!” Lobelia demanded. “This doesn’t concern you!”         

            “The hell it doesn’t!” Belladonna Baggins came right up and practically stood in the middle of them all, shielding Thorin and Freya from Lobelia and Lotho.

            “This is between me and this ... woman here!” Lobelia barked.

            “This is between you and the two of us!” Belladonna replied, not needing to look at Freya to indicate they were in the same corner. “I’ve reached my absolute limit with your attitude and excuses for Lotho’s bullying!”

            “That’s a tissue of lies!” Lobelia said. “I can see right through them! You just want the whole world to treat Bilbo like some little prince!”

            “Don’t try and put this on my son! You have been told repeatedly of Lotho’s bullying and teasing of Bilbo! And Drogo ... and Primula ... AND Esmeralda ... I mean, the list grows longer and longer each year!”

            “More lies!”

            “They are not! I’ve reached the end of my patience!” Belladonna looked down at Lotho before giving Lobelia a hard look. “One more time ... this is the last warning you’ll get ... if this happens _one more time_ , I will not just go to the rest of the family and complain ... I will call the police and press charges! And not just me ... Mirabella, Ruby and Adalgrim have all said the same!”

            Lobelia stood gaping for a moment. “You wouldn’t dare!”

            “Try us!”

            “And that goes for me too!” Freya added. “You keep him away from Thorin!”

            Lobelia pursed her lips and turned a deep red color in her anger. But she held her tongue; what could she say? She’d been beaten and she knew it.

            Lobelia was done. “Come along, Lotho!” She turned them both and started stalking towards her car.

            It was over; for the adults.

            But not quite for Thorin!

            “AND IF YOU EVER TOUCH BILBO AGAIN,” Thorin shouted, “I’LL SHOVE MY FOOT SO FAR UP YOUR ARSE, YOU’LL HAVE TO OPEN YOUR MOUTH SO I CAN UNTIE MY SHOE!”

            Lobelia and Lotho turned around, horrified at the comment. Yet for some odd reason, Freya and Missus Baggins seemed to find it really funny and nearly doubled over in their laughing. Even Bilbo was giggling! Which Thorin didn’t understand at all because it wasn’t meant to be funny; he wasn’t joking.

            He just shrugged it off.

            Belladonna huffed out a sigh and turned an amused smile to Freya. “Dreadful woman! I’m loath to admit we’re related.”

            Freya laughed again. “You know what they say, you can’t pick family, only your friends.”

            “Awful way for us to meet,” Belladonna said, holding out her hand to Freya, “But I’m Belladonna Baggins ... if you haven’t figured that out.”

            Freya laughed but took Belladonna’s hand and shook it. “Freya Durin. And yes, minus the unpleasantries, it’s a pleasure to meet you and Thorin’s friend.” Freya gave Bilbo a little wink, which made him smile.

            “And speaking of friends,” Belladonna said, releasing Freya’s hand and looking at Thorin. “Bilbo certainly has a good friend in you.” 

            Thorin puffed up a bit at that. He was Bilbo’s best friend and proud of it!

            “I hear you were very brave.”

            Well, now that made Thorin blush. He looked at Bilbo who suddenly seemed a little shy. “I ... I only did what I had to do.”

            “Be that as it may, you were still brave to do it.” Then hurried to add, “Of course, I’d prefer you two didn’t get in any more fights.”

            “It wasn’t Thorin’s fault, Mum!” Bilbo coming to Thorin’s defense. “It was all Lotho and his ... henchmen!”

            Freya and Belladonna smirked at the last word.

            “We know that,” Freya said softly. “I think what your mother is saying is that she and I would like it if you both just walked away in the future.”

            “I’m not a coward!” Thorin stated.

            “We were challenged!” Bilbo said, holding his head up. “We couldn’t run like little babies!”

            “It was a matter of honor!” Thorin declared. He would not back down.

            Both mothers looked at each other and just shook their heads.

            “Yes ... well,” Belladonna said with a shrug, “We can talk more about it later.”

            “Indeed,” Freya added.

            “You know,” Belladonna said changing the subject and looking back at Thorin. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for the longest time. Bilbo talks of nothing but you.”

            Thorin really did puff up with that! Bilbo talked about him to his Mum?! Really?! He looked over at Bilbo who was suddenly very shy and red faced, but when he did look at Thorin, he smiled.

            “Really?” Freya said. “Funny ... I’ve not heard a thing about Bilbo until today.”

            Oh, shite! Even to Thorin, that didn’t sound good.

            “You didn’t want to tell your mum about me?” Bilbo asked, very softly, sounding a little hurt.

            Thorin’s mouth worked up and down but not his voice; that was gone!   Oh, CHRIST!   What was he to say that that! It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell his Mum, it’s just that ... _he didn’t want to tell her about Bilbo_. Thorin was at a loss; even in his head, he couldn’t get it straight!

            But someone came to his rescue.

            “Sometimes, sweetie,” Belladonna said, looking at her son. “When someone likes someone very much, they like to keep that person a secret. It’s a compliment”

            YES! Thorin breathed again, that was so true!

            Bilbo slowly nodded. “Oh. I ... I didn’t realize that.” He now seemed to be a little uncomfortable. Thorin wasn’t sure why, but, once again, using her magical powers that he didn’t understand, his mother seemed to know the reason.

            “And,” Freya jumped in, “There is nothing wrong with telling people either. Both are perfectly all right.”

            Bilbo looked happier at that. Thorin certainly felt better now that Bilbo was better.

            “And speaking of ‘all right,’” Belladonna said, changing the subject. “The whole reason we came over here was to make sure Thorin was all right.”

            “I’m totally fine,” Thorin said, completely ignoring his bruised face, bandaged eyebrow, cut lip. He was totally fine in his opinion; Bilbo was here, they were still best _best_ friends and he wasn’t in trouble. What more could he ask for?!

            “He is fine,” Freya said dryly. “He’s got a hard head.”

            “What does _that_ mean?” Thorin demanded.

            “It’s a compliment,” Belladonna replied.

            “Absolutely,” Freya agreed.

            Then both ladies giggled again. Bilbo shrugged and Thorin rolled his eyes; mothers, someone else would have to figure them out, because Thorin couldn’t.

            “And since Thorin was so protective,” Belladonna said, “We thought it only fitting to bring you something to reward your bravery.”

            That’s when Thorin noticed Bilbo was carrying three large, bulging shopping totes. Bilbo handed one to Thorin and gave him a big smile.

            Thorin took it and opened it, gasping. “ICE CREAM!” He thrust the bag at his mum to look. “THEY BROUGHT US ICE CREAM!”

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            The three Durin siblings and Bilbo sat on the floor in a ‘sort of’ circle. Since it was only the four of them, it seemed more like a square than a circle but Thorin wasn’t going to argue. Especially not with Bilbo!

           

            _“I want to sit next to Bilbo!” Frerin had insisted._

_“No!” Thorin said. He wasn’t about to let his ferret-faced little brother anywhere near Bilbo!_

_“I want to sit next to him!” Dis stated firmly to Frerin, hands on hips. “And Since Thorin’s place is next to Bilbo, that means Bilbo doesn’t have another side for you to sit next to! You can go sit in the bathroom!”_

_“That’s not fair!” Frerin spat out._

_“You aren’t sitting next to Bilbo! PERIOD!” Thorin was not giving in!_

_“I’m going to tell Mum!” Frerin was always a bit of a tattletale._

_“Cry baby,” Dis said. She may have been the smallest but she wasn’t one to take any of Frerin’s crap. She didn’t take anyone’s crap really._

_“I know,” Bilbo said, putting a hand gently on Thorin’s shoulder, instantly calming him. “We can all sit together.”_

_Thorin and Dis were confused, but Bilbo led Thorin to the middle of the living and had him sit first. Then he sat Frerin to Thorin left. Dis was asked to sit to Frerin’s left, facing Thorin, and then Bilbo sat to Thorin’s right, Dis’ left and facing Frerin. Bilbo said it was a circle, but Dis was the one that pointed out it was really a square and Thorin agreed but said nothing. They all got their way, sort of, and Bilbo was happy with the arrangement so Thorin was too._

_For the most part._

_Frerin was still too close to Bilbo. But at least this way, Thorin had a close watch on the situation._

At least they didn’t fight about the ice cream. They didn’t need to! Missus Bella, as Belladonna had told Thorin he could call her, had brought not one, but several flavors!   Frerin had Butter Pecan, while Dis chose Mint Chocolate Chip. Bilbo had his favorite, Neapolitan. Thorin, however, had the Triple Chocolate Brownie Swirl! Bilbo told Thorin that he’d told his mum that Thorin loved chocolate, which was very true, and this ice cream was especially for Thorin; chocolate ice cream with chunks of brownies, bits of chopped walnuts and huge, thick ribbons of fudgy swirls throughout! Thorin loved it! Especially since Bilbo had Missus Bella buy it special for him! And Bilbo said Thorin didn’t have to share it with anyone if he didn’t want to.

            Of course, Thorin did share a few bites with Bilbo. Naturally.

            “This so good!” Frerin said, slowly pulling his spoon out between his lips.

            Thorin wanted to laugh; it looked like Frerin was having a relationship with the damn spoon!   But Thorin understood; it was fucking awesome!

            “I wish we had more,” Dis said with a sigh, looking at her nearly empty bowl wistfully.

            Thorin looked down at his own empty bowl. More. Yes, more would be lovely.

            “Let’s go get some,” Bilbo said, his bowl empty too.

            “Do you think they will let us?” Thorin asked. Was it possible they’d be allowed to have a second one?!

            Bilbo shrugged but wore a sly smile. “Go tell your mum it makes your lip feel better.” He gave Thorin a wink. “That should do it.”

            Thorin laughed but he got up to go ask; it was worth a shot.

            “We want some too!” Dis whispered loudly, conspiring.

            Frerin nodded his consent with his spoon firmly back in this mouth.

            “Okay,” Thorin said. “I’ll get us all some.”

            “I’m coming.” Bilbo stood to follow.

            The two older boys made their way towards the kitchen where Freya and Belladonna were sitting. When Bilbo and his mum had come over, they brought more than just ice cream; they’d brought dinner was well!   A huge pan of lasagna and loaves of garlic bread, a container of extra sauce with meatballs, a huge casserole filled with roasted vegetables sprinkled with cheese, and a big, fresh, crisp salad. Belladonna even brought a bottle of wine ‘for the ladies’ along with milk and fresh homemade lemonade for the kids. When dinner was done, and the young ones had gone off to have their ice cream, the two mothers had stayed behind to have coffee and ‘chat.’

            As Thorin and Bilbo got closer, they could their mums talking.

            “You didn’t have to bring dinner as well,” Freya said.

            “Oh, I think I did,” Belladonna replied. “After all that Thorin did.”

            Freya chuckled. “He is very protective.”

            “It’s more than that,” Belladonna said. “Before Thorin ... I feared Bilbo would always be in his own world.”

            “He seems friendly and outgoing.”

            “He is, but ... well, he was close to his father ... they were almost best friends ... but since Bungo’s passing, I’ve worried that Bilbo would be without that closeness one gets with a special friend. Know what I mean?”

            “Were none of your brothers able to ... step in?”

            “Oh, they have, in their ways ... but it isn’t the same. Bilbo needed someone go on hikes and take little adventures ... Bungo loved doing that with Bilbo ... exploring the woods and nature around the area. After Bungo, Bilbo did it on his own ... I think he was trying to keep what he had with his father alive ... but it wasn’t until Thorin when he had someone to share it with, that I saw the joy of it come back into Bilbo’s eyes.”

            Thorin looked at Bilbo who, for some odd reason found his shoes very interesting at that moment. Thorin reached out and placed a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, and he got a quick smile from his friend, but Bilbo was pink-cheeked and he looked away again. Thorin understood. And, if anything, he felt, even more, protective of Bilbo suddenly than he ever had before.

            “I know what you mean,” Freya said quietly. There was sadness in her voice that Thorin could hear. “Thorin has been such the little man for so long. Since his father disappeared, I’ve had to work so much and Thorin has had to step into being the ... _‘man of the house’ ..._ and it’s hard for me to watch as his childhood is eaten up with adult worries and responsibilities.” Freya was quiet for a few moments before she went on. “But you know, since we moved here, I’ve seen Thorin be a little more relaxed ... a little more of the child he should be ... and I was just so happy to see it, I never really questioned why. Now I have to wonder ... or not wonder really ... that Bilbo’s probably helped Thorin as much as Thorin has helped Bilbo.”

            Now Thorin felt a little exposed, his cheeks warm. But he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Bilbo looking at him, his expression so open, so full of ... was it affection? Thorin looked away, just as Bilbo had done. But the hand on his shoulder squeezed a little and he knew that Bilbo knew and he too understood.

            Thorin smiled if just to himself. They both knew they both understood, they both cared. That’s all that mattered.

            “How long has it been?” Belladonna asked. She didn’t need to clarify for Freya.

            “Almost eight year since Thrain disappeared.”

            “Eight years,” Belladonna repeated with a tone of surprise. “And there’s been no trace?”

            Freya sighed. “Detectives went looking but ... after his father went mad and lost the family business ... we lost everything ... I just couldn’t afford to keep looking and care for the children and ... well, after the first year, we had to stop.”

            “I’m so sorry.”

            “I keep hoping that someday ... some how ... Thrain will ... come back. I don’t even care about an explanation. Just ... come home.” Freya sounded a little fragile. “I’m sorry,” Freya said.

            “You have nothing to be sorry for!” Belladonna said.

            “The hardest thing were the police. They gave up so quickly ... Said he ran away. I told them that would be completely out of character, but ... they said he wouldn’t be the first husband to lost it all and want to leave their old life behind, to start anew.”

            “I don’t believe that.”

            “Nor do I. But ... well, you see where we are. And his father’s madness was a great scandal and the company’s loss and take over made us a laughing stock ... I’ve been lucky to get jobs cleaning houses, let alone decent work.”

            “There is nothing wrong with honest work.”

            “Agreed but ... it would be nice to do what I’m good at.”

            “And what did you do?”

            “I was head of Accounting for the family company. Sadly I had to watch as Thror pissed it all away in his insanity ... but afterward, of course, with Thror dead and Thrain gone, I was the only one left that others could point fingers at.”

            “That’s terrible!”

            Freya sighed heavily. “C’est le vive.”

            “All we need to do is find you a good accounting job.”

            Freya laughed at that. “All! If only it was that easy ... not with the Durin reputation.”

            “I wonder if my father ... or even Andy ... would know of an accounting position?”     

            “Your father?”

            “Oh yes, my dear. I’m a Baggins by marriage. I’m a Took by birth.”

            “Really?! A Took ... as in Took Publishing?!”

            “That’s us.”

            Bilbo suddenly gasped and rushed into the kitchen, shouting, “Uncle Isengrim needs an accountant!”

            “Bilbo!” Belladonna was needless to say surprised by her son’s appearance. “What have I told you about eavesdropping!”

            “It was my fault, Missus Bella!” Thorin said, coming in after Bilbo. “I wanted more ice cream and—”

            “Mummy!” Bilbo said, practically jumping up and down. “Missus Durin needs to call Uncle right now!”

            “All right, calm down.” Belladonna took hold of Bilbo’s shoulders and held him in place until he settled. “Now ... what are you saying?”

            Bilbo huffed in his frustration, but rushed out in one long breath, “When we over at Gramps’ house last week, Uncle Isengrim was talking with Gramps in Gramps’ study and I heard Uncle saying that he needed a new accountant because the one he had wasn’t working out and he wasn’t sure about hiring outside the family but felt he should and he was asking Gramps’ for advice and that’s why Missus Durin needs to call him right now so that she can have the job!”

            “That’s a great idea!” Thorin was dead impressed!

            “It doesn’t work that way, sweetie,” Freya said, pouring cold water on the idea.

            “Why doesn’t it?” Both Thorin and Bilbo asked in unison.

            “What do you mean you ‘heard Uncle saying?’”

            Bilbo turned a little pink and looked between his mother and Freya.

            “You mean you eavesdropping,” Belladonna said with a raised eyebrow.

            “I was ... uhm,” Bilbo cleared his throat. “I was ... coming back from the bathroom and I happen to be passing the study and—”

            “And pressed your ear to the door?” Belladonna asked dryly.

            Bilbo turned a little pinker.

            Belladonna rolled her eyes. “We are seriously going to have to talk about eavesdropping and the inappropriateness of it.”

            “But Mummy!” Bilbo stated. “Missus Durin needs to call Uncle now!”

            Freya sighed. “Bilbo, honey—”

            “He’s right about that at least,” Belladonna said.

            Freya didn’t seem to have heard right. “Excuse me?”

            “We need to jump on this now.” Belladonna reached for her phone.

            Freya was confused. “But, it wasn’t really a—”

            “There is an easy way to solve this.” Belladonna tapped the screen and then put the phone to her ear for a few long moments before she smiled and said, “Brother dear, how are you?” She nodded. “I’m fine.” A pause. “Bilbo’s fine too.” More listening. “Everything is fine, really. Although this isn’t a pleasure call. It’s business.” She smiled at the boys and gave Bilbo a wink. “Yes, it seems your favorite nephew overheard something you said, and I was wondering if it was true. Are you looking for a new accountant?” Longer pause, more heading nodding and then a sly smile. “Well, as it happens, I have a perfect candidate I’d like to put forward for the position. She is the mother of Bilbo’s best friend.” Another little pause and then Belladonna laughed. “Yes! It is Thorn’s mother!” Nodding. “As fate would have it, we are over at the Durin’s right now and I’m sure Freya would love to chat with you.” Belladonna held out the phone to Freya, mouthing, “ _Take it_.”

            Thorin had never seen his mother look so stunned and she looked at the held-out phone for a few seconds before shaking herself and taking it.

            “Hello ... Mister Took,” Freya said, her voice suddenly steady and professional.

            Belladonna mouthed to Freya, “ _Go ... we’ll clean up_.”

            Freya hesitated for just a minute then left the room, chatting with Bilbo’s uncle all the while.

            Belladonna turned to the two boys. “If you want more ice cream, you’ll need to earn it. Let’s clean this place up while Freya talks to Uncle.”

            “Yes, ma’am!” Thorin said eagerly and started grabbing dishes and plates.

            Bilbo giggled as he did the same.

            They worked steady, clearing the dirty dishes, wiping down the table and surface, Belladonna washing, Thorin drying, Bilbo giving Frerin and Dis second bowls of ice cream when they came in asking what was going on. But through it all, Thorin was amazed; there was excitement in the air. He could almost smell it. If his mum got the job, they could stop worrying, they could maybe get their own house rather than renting, they could settle down, they could finally stay in one place!

            “Well,” Freya said, coming back into the kitchen after an hour. She handed Belladonna her phone and sat down at the table with everyone else.

            “Well ...” Belladonna asked. “What did he say?”

            “He ... wants me to come in on Monday,” Freya said. “He said to finalize it ... so I guess that means with a final interview with the other head honchos.”

            “No, my dear,” Belladonna said, smiling. “If he said ‘finalize’, he means to sign the paperwork, get you your badge, show you your office and introduce you to your staff! I know my brother! You got that job!”

            “I got the job!” Freya shouted with a laugh.

            The kids all cheered and Freya was suddenly pulling Belladonna into a hug and saying thank you over and over.

            Thorin was so happy! And then ... well, he couldn’t help himself, he pulled Bilbo into a tight hug.

            And Bilbo hugged him back!

            “Thank you, Bilbo!” Thorin whispered, feeling like crying for the second time that night, only this time, he didn’t care.

            “Anything for you,” Bilbo whispered back as he hugged Thorin just as tightly.

            Thorin didn’t have to leave.

            He didn’t have to worry anymore about moving away.

            He could really stay.

            He could stay.

            With Bilbo.

 

\-----oooooOOOOO88888OOOOOooooo-----

 

            Life only improved by leaps and bounds. Freya settled in well at Took Publishing and she and her family were quickly ‘adopted’ by the Tooks and their extended families; Bagginses, Brandybucks, Boffins, and Chubbs.

            Lotho transferred to another school, much to the joy of everyone and Freya considered Bilbo an adopted son, just as much as Belladonna considered Thorin, Frerin and Dis like her own.

            Freya and Belladonna became the best of friends, and Frerin and Dis became very close with Drogo and Primula respectfully.

            And Belladonna had one more trick up her sleeve. Seems she had a friend, Andy Grey, who seemed to know everyone and everything. All she had to do was mention Thrain to him and he took it from there. And not five months later, Mister Grey appeared on the Durin’s family porch with their long lost father, who had traveled to Russia all those years before, been mugged, injured and had been living in an asylum of sorts with no memory of who he was or where he’d come from. It took a long time, and he never regained all his memories, but he remembered some and he knew his wife and children.

            As the years passed and life became richer and more fulfilling, Thorin and Bilbo, no matter how old they got, always looked back fondly, and lovingly, on those times of ice cream and summer days.

 

 

 


End file.
